


Cold Takeout

by alchemicink



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: AU, Comfort/Angst, Gen, Sequel, still not really romance even though I tagged it again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2662988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alchemicink/pseuds/alchemicink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a rainy night, Takaki meets someone willing to share.</p>
<p>Sequel to Cheap Umbrella.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Takeout

**Author's Note:**

> So I lied. I said I'd write something humorous to make up for last week's angst, but then I decided to write a sequel instead. But I've definitely decided to write one more part to this story and that will definitely be fluff! You should probably read [Cheap Umbrella](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2629979/) before reading this one because it picks up right where that story ended. And I upped the rating because this one includes a description of a car crash. (just warning you all ahead of time)
> 
> Somehow I ended up writing this one (and Cheap Umbrella) with the style I normally use for creative nonfiction, so I'm sorry if it sounds really weird. I hope you all enjoy this anyway! (and sorry that I can't stop rambling)

There was a cold feeling in the air as the rain fell down steadily from the sky, but Takaki clung to the warmth of the stranger beside him. He had expected this guy, this Nakajima Yuto, to pull away when Takaki reached out to help him hold the umbrella. But instead, Yuto remained still as he watched the rain. The sound of his steady, even breathing blended with the sound of raindrops bouncing off hard pavement. His other hand curled around the plastic handles of a takeout bag resting in his lap.

The warmth of the hand was what Takaki chose to focus on. Long fingers and smooth skin emanated a heat that Takaki hadn’t felt in a long time. If he closed his eyes, that warmth could be an anchor. Back on that other bus stop bench, Takaki had let the rain wash over him. He thought of it like sitting in the middle of the ocean with water surrounding him, washing over him, until he was covered up. Drowning. He had just wanted to melt away and sink into a puddle, letting gravity pull him and the rainwater down the storm drain. 

“…Like diamonds,” Yuto said quietly as if he didn’t even realize he was speaking out loud. Yuto’s eyes were still intently focused on the glittery raindrops. Takaki looked out at the rain too, but he didn’t see diamonds. The tiny sparkles settling onto the dark pavement looked to him like the shattered glass of a car windshield. 

“The rain looks just like diamonds,” Yuto repeated just a bit louder this time. There was a wistful tone in his voice, and Takaki wondered if maybe he had lost something dear to him. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Diamonds are just rocks. Pretty and shiny, but still just rocks,” Takaki responded, but he instantly regretted his cynical tone. Another mistake. For a brief moment, he again just wanted the water to sweep him away. 

Yuto sighed and absentmindedly fiddled with the takeout bag. 

“I’m sorry,” Takaki apologized. He made to let go of Yuto’s hand, leaving the wonderful warmth behind, but Yuto shook his head. Takaki reached for his anchor again.

Yuto resumed looking at the falling rain. The never-ending rain. “I broke up with my boyfriend a few weeks ago,” he explained. “I loved him, you know, but I couldn’t live with him. We couldn’t live with each other.” There was a pause. “He had eyes that sparkled like diamonds.” 

“Do you think it was a mistake?” 

Yuto just gave a sort of half-hearted shrug. “It might have been the wrong choice. Or maybe not. I don’t know.” 

A car sped past them, splashing rainwater onto their feet. Yuto grimaced at his soggy tennis shoes and then let out a brief strange laugh. “I know that wearing these shoes tonight was the wrong choice.” He nodded towards Takaki’s shoes. “At least _your_ feet are protected.” 

Takaki glanced down at his boots, sturdy and thick enough to keep the rain out. He hadn’t even really been thinking when he threw them on earlier. If he had, he probably would have put on sandals so that every inch of his body could have been doused in the deluge of rainwater. Because he didn’t want any part of himself to feel protected. He wanted the water to drip down his body in wet rivulets, filling in all the broken parts. 

At least, that’s how he had felt until he had looked up to see this stranger standing over him with an umbrella, interrupting his plan to drown in self-pity. 

“I broke up with my boyfriend too,” Takaki confessed. “Three months ago.” _Exactly three months ago_ , he reminded himself. This was the anniversary of that night when things abruptly came to a messy end. The accusation, the argument, the accident. All of it on that night. It had been raining then too. 

“Do _you_ think it was a mistake?” Yuto asked, repeating Takaki’s own question back to him. Takaki noticed his hands clasped both the umbrella and the takeout bag just a little bit tighter as he waited for the answer. 

The memories of months, weeks, days before the breakup flashed through Takaki’s head. Problems between them had sprouted up, taken root, grown like weeds until the flowers of their relationship were choked up and dying. It had felt like it was always raining even on the sunny days. 

“The breakup wasn’t the mistake,” Takaki answered. “It was how I did it.” 

There had been angry words, spilling from his mouth like a flood. There had been selfish declarations, jealous accusations, things that he never should have spoken out loud. There had been the sound of his car door slamming shut before he drove away, and then the sound of windshield wipers pushing away the rain so he could see. There had been the ringing of his cell phone, a distraction, before he had flung it into the backseat in a fit of rage as soon as he saw the name across the screen. 

And then, there was nothing. 

Nothing until a person was standing over him, asking if he was okay as he laid still in the twisted remains of his car and the tree he’d hit. Truthfully, he didn’t know whether he was okay or not. His car was crumpled up like it had been made of tin foil. The windshield had shattered and scattered itself across the road. Headlights from another car cast light onto the little broken pieces, reflecting the glass and the rain mingling together like discarded glitter. Motor fuel oozed out from the front of his car like blood, and when he managed to move his head a little to look down, he saw his own blood slowly oozing out too, mixing with the raindrops. There was something in his side, but in the dark he couldn’t tell if it was a piece of his car or a piece of the tree. 

Emergency response vehicles arrived soon and everything became a flashy multitude of multicolored lights. And still, the rain continued to fall and wash it all away.

When Takaki realized that he had gotten lost in his memories, he turned to Yuto, only to see that the other guy was staring at him intensely. His eyes seemed to pierce right through him, like he understood every thought going on in Takaki’s head. 

“I think, perhaps, it’s okay to let yourself feel sad for a while,” Yuto said. “Or feel angry for a while. Just as long as you don’t forget to feel everything else.” He nodded as though he was reassuring himself too. 

Takaki looked up at the rain that had been his constant companion for so long. “I think maybe you’re right.” 

Maybe it was true. Takaki had made mistakes, but there was no way to rewind time and fix them. He’d have to live with them, just like he had to live with the new scars left behind on his side. He decided that he liked this Yuto guy. They were similar. Just two broken people who were sitting together on a bus stop bench. Just two broken people who picked the wrong choices and made mistakes and maybe still were struggling with how to keep on living. 

The bus pulled up to the stop and opened the door. Takaki reluctantly let go of Yuto’s hand and the umbrella. His clothes were still soaked from the rain earlier and stepping up to the edge of the sidewalk reminded him of how cold he was. He stuck his hand in his pocket to find enough change for the bus fare. He could hear the rustling of Yuto’s takeout bag, maybe he had stood up as well, but Takaki was almost afraid to turn around and say goodbye to the stranger. 

“Wait!”

Takaki had one foot already on the bus, but he stopped to look behind him. Yuto held the plastic bag out for him. 

“Take it,” Yuto insisted. “It’s probably cold by now, but I want you to have it.” 

Takaki felt bad about taking Yuto’s food, but he couldn’t say no to those pleading eyes. He touched that warm hand once more as he grabbed the bag. “Thank you.” 

He climbed onto the mostly empty bus and sat down. Through the window, he could see Yuto give him a small smile before turning to walk away, still holding that cheap umbrella over his head. 

Takaki opened up the plastic bag. He almost laughed as he saw Yuto’s name and a phone number hastily etched into the styrofoam cover of the container.

With a plastic fork in his hand, Takaki took a bite of the food. It _was_ cold—Yuto had been right—but as Takaki continued, bite by bite, he started to feel warm again. For the first time in a long time.


End file.
